Addicted.

He could barely resist anymore. His mind couldn't think about anything else, his body was shivering in agony because of the abstinence. It felt like ages ago to him, although it probably wasn't so long. He had to go out and do something about it.

He got up, his head noisily heavy and silently light, blood pumping in his brain. He felt car sick although he was not moving, the whole house was trembling. But he had to do this, he tied his locks, took a deep breath and got out.

The light of the sun struck him, too strong, too hard for his eyes, but he couldn't stop there. His arms, his inner body from chest to feet, his brain, they were all demanding that thing, like he had none for hundreds of years. His large hemp-made pants were to thin to defend him from the cold air and shivers ran down his spine. He felt the urge to smoke so he drew a cigarette from his pockets. It made him feel better but not even nicotine could put an end to his needs. Nor alcohol. Nothing of what was left in his house, so he had to go to Rob's: the top farmer he knew.

He entered the tiny shop down the road and rang the bell.
"Hey Rob, you home man?" A couple second after "Yeah comin', just a sec bro" the friend replied.

<<Just a sec uh, it' easy for you to talk>> but he didn't want to insist and a couple of minutes later Rob showed up "I was down in the cellar... working on handmade stuff. That grinder I bought online really does the job" said pouring whiskey in a glass.
"Care a sip?"
"No thanks, just here to buy some stuff"
"Oh I get it. Whatcha need?"
"Yellow"
"You sure? You plannin' biscuits?"
"Something like that"
"Well, how much?"
"Half elbow. Also a ball of the white wouldn't hurt"
Rob looked at him kind of surprised "You mixin'? You sure are weird man. Well, I got it all here..." he prepared a couple of bags "and this time is on me".
"You kiddin'? That's too much, I can't accept, how much do you want?"
"Hey" Rob replied "This is my shop, I make the rules. 'Sides, I owe you that much, business sure is an hard thing these days and you sure kept me running this place for longer than I was supposed to. Now take it you junkie, before I change my mind."
"...Thanks Man" he hugged Rob and then rushed out the shop, and then down the road, his heart racing, his fantasy going wild and bringing him to ecstasy.

<<It is true>> thought to himself <<sometimes waiting for the pleasure is as valuable as the pleasure itself>>.

But he was so distracted that he forgot caution, he hit by accident a bike that some teenager hanging around left on the sidewalk, throwing it in the middle of the road. He had no time for that he simply ran away while he heard behind him the racket of the bike on the road and people complaining. Nothing could stop him.

As he reached his ammonia-stinking home he went to the kitchen and opened the bags to have a taste and a sniff: sweet as always. Rob really was the best.

<<I've been waiting for so long>> he thought. He could perfectly remember when this whole deal started, he was young, living in a rotten house with his mother ( even at this time god only knew where his father was). They had very little money, she struggled and he helped her with part time jobs. It still was not enough. Their life was hard and one day, coming back home from one of his errands, he found his mother crying in the bed. He cried too. That's when she taught him, to make him feel better, how to mix stuff and use it. It made both of them feel better and it slowly became their ritual, once a week, at the very least. It was a cheap way to relieve oneself from his troubles.

Now she was long gone, but he still craved for it. He poured it all in the bowl, mixed, added some water and mixed. It was ready.

He threw his hands in the mixture: that feeling, he missed that. He put some colours in it. Perfect.

But in that moment something unexpected happened. Someone knocking at the door "Sir please open the door. It's the police, we'd like to ask you a couple questions."

<<Not now.>> he was in panic <<That's the WORST of times.>> he needed some excuse "Umh... I'm kinda busy officer doing...housework. Could you please come back later?" he barely succeeded in saying <<Housework? Seriously? That's your best idea? Geez>>.

"It's important sir, we'll have to ask you to come and open the door or we'll have to come in".

He literally had his fingers in it, there was no way he could ever open that door, nor he wanted to. He simply continued what he was doing, enjoying himself and ignoring the calls of the officers <<I missed this so much>>.

Eventually the police broke in the apartment: "You're under arrest sir, we have witnesses of your crime"

"NO, NO YOU CAN'T. THAT'S A HUGE MISUNDERSTANDING I WAS JUST..." a policeman handcuffed him "I KNOW MY RIGHTS. YOU CAN'T DO THIS".

"Sir, you were seen on the scene of the crime. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."

" I KNOW I'M OVER 30 BUT IT IS NOT ILLEGAL TO PLAY WITH GLOOP, I'M SURE OF IT".

The policemen looked at him surprised "Sir, you threw a bicycle in the middle of the road and caused a car accident. That has nothing to do with gloop."

He was petrified, he followed the officers silently, without even saying a word. Once they reached the station he asked the policemen "Are you seriously going to say that you caught me while I was home alone playing with gloop?"

They turned to the backseats, shared a nod and one of them said "We're not heartless, we won't. We entered you house and we found you smoking pot and high as hell Sir."

He sighed: "Thank you officers."